The Terminal (Movie Fanfiction)

Mr. Amlan Satan is 'stuck' at a JFK Terminal (Aer Lingus) during a Russo-Ukrainian War ambiguity, with little diplomacy-status, opening a 'dry' door.

I love airports, so I've decided to retire with this fanfiction of the amazing/unusual transit-magic film The Terminal (Steven Spielberg). Hope you like it, 

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Amlan Satan escape from the modern 'hellmouth' of the Russo-Ukrainian War (Eastern Europe) and hopped onto an Aer Lingus flight from Dublin to JFK (NY) and read his edition of Dubliners on the flight which his brother had gifted him and who was still stuck in Ukraine fighting inside Crimea against the Russian force(s).

He was born in Algeria and moved to the Ukraine with his mother and brother and worked as a post-office man in Crimea before it was 'annexed' by Russia/Putin and forced many Ukrainians to adapt to the 'imposed' governance. Amlan eventually decided to flee the Ukraine, when the War broke out and landed in JFK as a man who looked more like a refugee than a world-traveler.

AMLAN SATAN: Happy to be in New York and airport real nice and reading Joyce in terminal and awaiting diplomacy-status!

The JFK airport (NY) is quite an institution. It's an international airport catering to flights from all around the modern globe and has become a diadem of modern world transit. It's a nice place to visit, but Amlan Satan is sort of 'stuck' here because he's got no diplomacy-status ('official') since the current state of the Russo-Ukrainian War has generated some ambiguity regarding the borders/status of the two differing 'nation-states' of Russia and Ukraine, making Satan a sort of 'wandering' messenger of dilemma, and JFK has become his temp-orphanage!

LEO SAYERS: Currently, Mr. Satan, you're a citizen of nowhere!
AMLAN SATAN: Where is Ukraine-Russia, Mr. Sayers?
LEO SAYERS: Now, I've been working in this airport as a guide/exec for years now, Amlan.
AMLAN SATAN: And so?
LEO SAYERS: You're sort of 'stuck' in this airport as a wandering diplomat with no origin-country.
AMLAN SATAN: Why?
LEO SAYERS: Well, you've fallen into a civilization 'hole' while Russia-Ukraine negotiate borders!
AMLAN SATAN: So, Ukraine-Russia talking...I wait in airport...no citizenship...awaiting refugee assistance?
LEO SAYERS: That's sort of mostly right; we've got to see where we label you (Russian/Ukrainian) emigrant.
AMLAN SATAN: I see; what I do now?
LEO SAYERS: Well, you've the choice (under our temp-care), Mr. Satan, to just wait/sit in the terminals.
AMLAN SATAN: Aer Lingus terminal?
LEO SAYERS: That's fine.
AMLAN SATAN: How long?
LEO SAYERS: We're not sure; but we've got restrooms and restaurants and phones for calling-cards.
AMLAN SATAN: I get job with painter-staff in airport for spending-money for food in restaurants, eh?
LEO SAYERS: That sounds very good for you; good; I'll be here if you have questions while we wait for actions.

Amlan Satan spent the next month wandering around the fine JFK airport, avoiding the 'mecha-spiders' of globalism political unrest paranoia and tremors and the 'leviathan' of Earth deformity while he grabbed spare ketchup-packets and took the 'grace-gifts' of leftover airport bistro-breads for nourishment.

AMLAN SATAN: I learn much in Aer Lingus terminal about patience and breads and ketchup and waiting in airport, haha.

After getting a temp-position assisting the painter-crew inside the renovation wings of the JFK airport near the Aer Lingus terminal, while caring for himself hygienically by regularly washing himself totally in the airport bathroom sink and procuring Aer Lingus toothpaste packs from the helpful airline employee working near the terminal (Jake) who Satan helped introduce to the pretty terminal attendant named Nita. He also used the small salary he got assisting the painter-crew with refurbishing the plaster and touching up on the portrait-painting (since he had Ukraine experience with painting!) to buy better food!

AMLAN SATAN: Painting finished, and wall-mural looks real great, but I'm still here in airport...waiting for miracle.

The miracle came in the form of a very wealthy New Yorker woman named Ezzy who'd been waiting in the Aer Lingus terminal for her husband, an airline pilot with British Airways who'd been cheating on her (with a stewardess!). Ezzy was depressed and Amlan Satan fell in love with her and explained to her his 'refugee' status, and Ezzy wondered if she should 'rescue' this 'handsome-man' from Eastern Europe and make him her airport-discovery.

AMLAN SATAN: I escaped airport 'terminal' and married Ezzy (darling) and write airplane comic books in Manhattan, haha.

Satan's case was unusual and an American miracle of sorts, but today there exists many 'comparable' strange tales of transit complexity which invoke our more 'serious' concerns about governance/monitors for deep dilemmas regarding civilization tremors. However, for Amlan Satan, the 'Terminal' (Aer Lingus) became a portal to American distance.

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)